Hanging by a thread
by marcelinelvskick
Summary: What do I have here? I can't really seem to recollect my blessings...I should be able to say that I have two loving parents, great friends, and that I'm as healthy as I could be…But to be honest, my dad is rarely ever around, my mom has stopped caring about me, the people I once called my friends don't talk to me any more, and I've been near death more times than I care to count..


I lifted my head from my bed with a groan. I looked around and tried to collect my thoughts. My alarm clock read 6:30 A.M., and I grudgingly rolled of my bed. Time to get ready for another useless day at South Park High. Honestly, we we're supposed to move away to New York a few years ago, but my dad didn't want to take the job. Something about it "Being too close to Jersey". Either way, I guess I should be grateful with what I've got here.

…..

What **do **I have here? I can't really seem to recollect my blessings... I should be able to say that I have two loving parents, great friends, and that I'm as healthy as I could be… But to be honest, my dad is rarely ever around, my mom has stopped caring about me, the people I once called my friends don't talk to me any more, and I've been near death more times than I care to count because of my health…. I guess I should try to at least acknowledge the **good** things in my life…. Uh, let's see… At least I'm not a juvenile delinquent going to convenient stores to rob Klondike bars, or other ninety-nine cent products… Yeah, I have a home, I'm a really good student, I don't get into trouble… Not on purpose, anyway…

"Kyle! Get out of bed! You'll be late!" My mother shouts from across the hall

I guess that's it for the inspirational part of my morning… I stumble into my bathroom and turn on the lights. I walk to stand in front of the mirror, and take a quick glance at myself, red curly hair pointing in every which way direction… as I look down at the lower part of my body; I see that my torso and chest are covered in past scars. Some are fresher than others, but they all hurt the same… I take my shorts off and toss them in the dirty basket as I turn on the shower. I step inside and wince as the hot water hits my lower part, but adjust rather quickly. I take a good fifteen minutes in the shower, trying to let the warm water soak in to my hair. I step back out, and roughly towel try my hair, which actually makes my hair look even crazier, if that's possible… from there I do my usual routine; I dress myself in dark navy blue jeans, a green t-shirt, pull on my black converse, brush my teeth, inject my insulin, grab my bag and…

I look at the top of my head in the length mirror I have in my room. My green ushanka was lying on the counter next to my computer. I bite my lip deciding on whether or not I should wear it… It's been a while since I have, and there's a good reason for it… There will be serious consequences if I do, but honestly, I miss wearing it… it meant that I didn't have to try so hard with my hair because the hat was hiding it all…

But…

"Kyle! Come downstairs for breakfast!"

"I'm not hungry, Ma…" I call back.

"Then don't eat! But you'll be late if you don't hurry!"

"I'll be right down!"

For the first time in my life, I go against my better judgment, and decide to take the hat. I quickly make my way downstairs, and head for the door, but not before my mother can grab my arm, and pull me to face her. I stare at her for a split second before turning my attention to what she was shooting glares at. I look at the top of my head, and get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach…

"Kyle," she growls.

"Yes mom?" I respond, trying to keep my voice from shaking at the terror that I feel.

"Why do you have that** thing** on?"

"W-Well, I… I just thought that…"

She yanks my hat off and pushes me out the door. I stumble to try to keep myself in balance and refrain from falling to the ground. I turn back to look at her, and see that she still as a firm grip on my hat.

"We will talk about this when you get back from school." With that, she slams the door shut, and I'm left staring blankly at the front door. I slowly turn around and start making my way to the bus stop. I wasn't looking forward to coming back, but if I went anywhere else without my mothers consent, it would turn out a lot worse for me… So I guess I don't actually have another choice. I look at my watch, and sigh as I pick up the pace. Only 6:45 in the morning, and I've already caused trouble for myself…

Great…


End file.
